


Among Pots And Pans.

by pekeleke



Series: Seeking Home [20]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-27
Updated: 2012-12-27
Packaged: 2017-11-22 15:58:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/611599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pekeleke/pseuds/pekeleke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's no place warmer than home and no comfort as powerful as the one you often find among the pots and pans of your own kitchen...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Among Pots And Pans.

_**Title: Among Pots And Pans.** _

**Fandom:** Harry potter (Snarry)

**Characters** : Harry Potter, Severus Snape.

**Author** : pekeleke.

**Rating** : G.

**Word** **count** : 973.

**Disclaimer** : Don't own these characters. No money is being made out of this work.

**A/N** : Unbetaed. Written for the adventdrabbles 2012 Prompt 20: Christmas cookies.

This is the twentieth part in my _**Seeking Home**_ series.

**Summary** : There's no place warmer than home and no comfort as powerful as the one you often find among the pots and pans of your own kitchen...

 

_**Among Pots And Pans.** _

 

Severus stilled as he entered his chambers, inhaling the thoroughly unexpected aroma of baking cookies with disconcerted confusion. He felt utterly weary, after spending a very fraught afternoon trying to deal with the disaster that was Draco's life, and the last thing he needed was to deal with Minerva's overactive house elf. Sighing deeply he abandoned his outer robes on the back of his chair and opened the door that led into his small kitchenette with a determined push.

 

“Mimsy, I know the headmistress put you up to this, but...” His words came to an abrupt halt when his midnight-black eyes registered the scene before him: Harry had managed to expand the small room to at least double it's usual size and every single surface was covered with a colorful variety of mixing bowls and cookie racks. There was powdered sugar everywhere, along with what seemed to be an inordinately amount of cocoa powder and cinnamon. The gryffindor's usually inky-black hair was liberally sprinkled with flour, he was elbow-deep in dough and looked oddly endearing as he lifted those green eyes to smile at him.

 

“I hope you don't mind me using your kitchenette, but my rooms don't have one and I'm baking way too much for the kitchen-elves' taste. They threw me out and Minerva forbid me from using the Room of requirement. She's terrified it might burn again... I had nowhere else to go.”

 

He blinked dazedly at that rushed explanation and took a careful step inside the disorganized war-zone that his usually pristine kitchen had become.

“What are you doing exactly? It's not as if there's any actual need for you to cook and this amount of baking seems a tad... excessive, Harry”

 

“I'm making Christmas cookies for the war orphanage. They're having a huge Santa-themed party for the kids tomorrow afternoon and I promised them I'd drop in. It'll raise public awareness and, hopefully, encourage some folks to donate.”

 

“I see...”

 

Worried green eyes settled over him.

“You are not mad, are you? I'll clean everything up, Severus.”

 

“No. I'm not mad. I'm just...” He looked around the awful mess and felt suddenly exhausted. The day had been an absolutely horrible emotional roller-coaster-ride and all he wanted to do was sit in a dark corner and nurse his aching head back to normality with a pain-away potion. He'd been planing on doing nothing but breathe deeply until his mind stopped whirling and his heart had found some peace. Now he had to deal with this, on top of everything else, and he felt suddenly overwhelmed. This was too much work. Simply... too much.

 

“You had trouble with Malfoy? You look... sad, Severus”

 

He searched around for somewhere to sit and, when he couldn't find it, pinched the bridge of his nose with exasperated frustration before offering a slightly clipped answer:

“Seeing Draco hurting so much is hard for me. I can't stop feeling guilty. It doesn't help any that I'm thoroughly unprepared to deal with a wounded young man in need of fatherly affection. I spent the whole afternoon trying to fake a confidence in the future that I don't really feel and missing Albus desperately. He would have known what to do...”

 

Harry vanished the mess off his hands with a single wandless charm and came around the packed counter in a flurry of soft-eyed empathy and flour-sprinkled hair.

“Come here...” He whispered simply and Severus was enfolded in a loving embrace that was so utterly gentle it brought a lump the size of China to his throat. The messy curls that barely brushed his chin smelled like cookie dough and the warm arms that had curled tightly around his middle left white powdered trails of flour all over his dark robes, but he couldn't feel a single twinge of annoyance for the mess they were creating with his appearance. Not when they were also acting like a soothing balm that brought him welcome comfort.

 

“It's alright, Harry. I know that I'm acting like a maudlin old fool”

 

“Sshh! Please, just... sshh, Severus. You're tired and you're hurting and you're trying to fake a strength that you don't have. It's OK to lean on me, you know? I'm right here and I want to help you, so shut up and let me give you the hug you need, you stubborn man! We'll figure the rest of it later, alright? 

We'll find a way to make Malfoy feel better. I'll move Heaven and Earth to see you both happy. You care very dearly for him and that means he's a part of the family we are so carefully building. We'll face whatever comes our way together. All three of us. I'll find a way to get on with the git, I promise. Everything is going to be alright, Severus, you'll see...”

 

Severus couldn't have found an answer to those words, had his life depended on it. He was speechless. Utterly shocked by the fierce joy they had brought him. These were not only words, they were powerful avowals. They were promises of a future that he'd never imagined he could have. Sighing deeply, he closed his burning eyes and settled the pointy tip of his chin atop that hopelessly messy hair, feeling infinitely better as the seconds passed and the silence grew into a peaceful sort of calm. 

_'Home...'_ He thought randomly and smiled for the first time that day. His heart filled with hope as that wayward notion swiftly grew into unshakable conviction inside his head.

_'Yes. This is home. My home... This is the place where my needs will always come first. This is where I'll find comfort and strength and hope. This is were my love awaits me, ready to embrace me fondly and bring me back to safety. This is where I'll always find... Harry'_

 


End file.
